


He's Okay, He's Fine, He's Alright

by euphoric_vibes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: footie louis, ot5 bro feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 08:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoric_vibes/pseuds/euphoric_vibes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis plays in his second charity game. Only now, he's missing a few people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Okay, He's Fine, He's Alright

**Author's Note:**

> aka. Louis feels like shit without his boys.

Louis sat with his eyes closed, trying to mentally will away the uneasy bubble of nerves that was currently taking up space in the pit of his stomach. He bounced his leg in time with the music coming through his headphones, but it was doing nothing to help distract him. He felt when the car stop and he knew he needed to get his shit together and put on his brave face. 

“Louis.” he felt Jay’s head on his shoulder and he forced himself to open his eyes. “You going to be alright?” 

“I just want to get this over with.” he said. Jay frowned. 

“You know they wanted to be here.” she reminded. 

“Yeah but they’re not.” it didn’t come out as harsh as he had wanted it to. 

He understood. Honestly, he did. They’d just spent the last three months together. They needed a chance to miss each other. But Louis just didn’t feel good doing something like this, knowing his boys weren’t here. He couldn’t help but remember the last the game, when everyone but Zayn were there. Louis had done well without Zayn then, only because Zayn had come to his house that night. Louis was without all of them now, even Niall, though Liam was the only one with a legitimate excuse. Then Louis felt guilty about being upset with him and that successfully made him feel worse. 

Nothing was going to compare to the way he felt when he was shoved into a room full of people who didn’t, and wouldn’t talk to him. It’s not that they were mean to him, or looked at him like he didn’t belong. Louis could just feel the vibes, he wasn’t wanted here, and he didn’t want to be here himself anymore either. He couldn’t really blame them, but it was also really wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t turn down being asked to participate in a charity match. He couldn’t help that his band known worldwide. He couldn’t help that he was the only teenaged popstar. Louis changed into his uniform, checking his phone one last time. He had a few texts from Niall, letting him know that he was watching, and good luck. Nothing from the other boys though. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed the heel of his palm to his eyes to keep the tears from burning. 

He hated this, he really did. But it was more of the fact that now he was reacting the way he did. He could go days without the boys, weeks even, hell he was usually the first one to tell the rest of them he was getting tired of seeing their faces. He just thought the boys would’ve **wanted** to be here with him, wanted to see him play, wanted to be here to support him, like he is for them, all the time. He was there for Zayn when he wanted to propose to Perrie, like he was there for Niall when he gets just a little too drunk, like he was there for Liam just last week when Liam sat and cried in his bedroom worrying about Andy, like he’s there for Harry, whenever Harry needs, for anything. 

Louis doesn’t mind, he loves it even, he likes knowing the boys can rely on him and he knows that the boys love him, they tell him that all the time. Louis just wishes that they would choose to be there for him on days like this, when he **needs** them, when he needs them to want him. He keeps to himself during warm ups, he’s not feeling wanted so he doesn’t bother, he can hear though, the few fans in the crowd that are close to recognize scream for him. And that feels good, _someone_ wants to see him. 

He feels a little better, kicking the ball around and getting loose. No matter what he’s feeling he still likes having the free feeling of being on the open field. He aims a few hard kicks towards the net, and that feels better, taking all his frustration and his disappointment and channeling into the ball. He’s tired by the time he’s finished so he lays down on the ground, staring up at the sky. But then that’s a bad idea because then he’s wondering what the other boys are doing right now. 

Harry and Niall are probably still sleeping, though Harry only because it’s still early morning in the states, Niall because it’s his off time, and he’s allowed to sleep till noon. Liam’s got a fifty chance of being at Andy’s side, or working out. And Zayn would probably still be sleeping, but he know Perrie has a day off too so they’re probably doing wedding things while Zayn actually has the time to pretend he cares. 

“Fuck.” Louis huffs to himself. 

He sits up again and he feels dizzy, ball of nerves coming back again. He unzips his jacket and leaves it on the grass, the rest of the reserves bench start to make their way on the field and now Louis really has no choice but to interact with the others now. Because cameras are present now, and he knows he’s already being deemed as a diva, he doesn’t want to look it. 

~ 

Much to everyone else’s disbelief, Louis is actually more respectful than he comes across. He doesn’t have the other boys to fall back on, so he’s polite, and he smiles, and he shakes hands, and he’s answers the questions and takes the pictures and signs the jersey and the balls and he think he’s actually going to be okay through this.  
But then announcements of names are being called out in the stadium, the now packed stadium, and when he hears his name announced, he’s not sure what he was expecting. Without the boys he’s not really used to grabbing the attention, but then he hears the screams. The cheering of the, moderate number of the fan girls in the crowd. Then he hears the louder reaction, the booing, and its okay, they’ve been booed before, they booed just a couple weeks again, but this is solely for him, and there’s thousands here. He can’t ignore that weight that gets placed on his chest, because hearing that, when he’s by himself, he doesn’t have four other feelings to have to worry about, he can’t look over and immediately try and make one of his boys smile. Because they’re not there, and it’s not for them as a group, it’s just for him and he can’t make himself better. He’s so good at lifting everyone else up; he just doesn’t know how to do it for himself. He’s usually able to shake it off, because he has that distraction of the other boys, he can’t shake it right now. He’s alone, and he’s never felt more singled out in his life. 

He still plays; of course he does, because if he was ever going to back out, it would’ve been this morning after reading the text from the four of them that they weren’t going to make it. So he still gets on the field, and his name his announced again, and their song is played again, and then cheers happen again, and then louder, the booing is still weighing him down. Like weights on his ankles, and he’s in an ocean, and he’s sinking, and he needs to try and breathe. He’s on the field now, there are thousands of people watching him, not watching him because they support him, but because they’re judging him, he can feel them. And this nervousness was nothing compared to his last game, his game at home, where people **were** there for him, because of him, because they wanted him. Then he was nervous due to excitement, he was nervous now because he was scared. 

But he plays, his football instincts kick in, and he’s almost on autopilot. He doesn’t feel like himself, and he’s feeling out of body. It’s like he’s watching someone else play, his mind space and his body feel like two completely different things right now. Until he hears the booing, again, and then he falters, his kick of the ball goes wayward and then the booing is louder, so much louder, and he stops to breathe, closes his eyes for a second and just, takes a deep breath.  
He shuts it all out then, it’s taken him a while to learn how to shut everything out from his head and just focus though he can feel the vibrations from the crowd, he can’t really hear them anymore. He just plays, as he normally would, with Stan, or with Niall. He gets the ball, and he passes the ball, and goes for a shot, he misses, and feels the vibrations again. He feels a bit better. He’s having a bit fun now, his technique might be a little off here and there but it’s going to be something for Niall to bitch about to him later, when he finally does see him. He finishes that first half and a slight high note. 

He’s still feeling good during the second half, he’s not thinking of anything other than all the countless times in the past that he had to correct Harry’s form of kicking the ball, he watches his own feet kick the ball and pictures how if Harry was here he’d be focusing intently on the way Louis movies. Then he thinks about Niall and how Niall doesn’t really have the best technique either not that Niall doesn’t know, but Niall just ends up having too much fun to care about how he looks. Then there’s Liam, who tries, and is actually quite good, Liam who actually has the build, but Liam just likes to mess around because he gets bored. Then Zayn, who just plays with them because he’d rather just get up and play rather than hear them whine about it. 

It’s thinking about his boys, how much fun he has playing with them that keeps Louis from hearing the noise. It’s also thinking about the boys that distract him, so he doesn’t see the other person on the other team that’s coming for him, and the ball. But he feels him slam into his body, knocking the wind out of him, and his knee. It’s his right knee that got knocked out from under him, but it’s his left knees that he feels the tweak and the pain shoot up and down the entirety of his leg. He hits the ground and he folds over on himself, reaching down and holding his knee, he hides his face in the ground, he’s grimacing but he is not going to make a sound, he holds it in, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Then he remembers that there are thousands of eyes on him, and now the camera’s. They’re already doubting him, little popstar on the football field, he’s not going to lay here any longer to give them more to talk about. So he sits up now, taking a deep breath, he works his face into something that‘s not pain. There’s a few of the players around him, asking if he’s okay. One of them offers his hand out to help him, but he’s fine, he tells him he’s fine and he gets up on his own. Putting the weight on his knee makes him want to just collapse to the floor again but he’s okay, he’s fine. He’s going to be fine, and he tries to walk it off, limping, because his knee already took a slam to the ground this year. He doesn’t think, he hopes, it’s not going bruise up like it did when he tried to tackle Liam to the ground. That kneecap last time though, and when he blew out his knee before, it was still the bone. This isn’t the bone this time. Louis feels it in his muscle, there’s a strain, and it really fucking hurts. But he’s okay. He’s fine. He’s alright. And that’s what he tells the player who took him down when he comes over to apologize. 

That he’s okay. Because he is; he has to be. 

But he can’t play anymore. He knows that, because this pain isn’t going to be walked off. He tries to handle the ball, and he thinks he can because he’s right footed, and it’s just his left knee, but no, because his weight is getting shifted to his left foot and he can’t finish this. 

So he looks to the side, and he’s shaking his head to the manager, that he wants out, now he **needs** out. He’s still trying to breathe; his leg has gone numb now. The noise is back, he can hear them, when they call out his name, announcing he’s coming out, the boos are back, and it’s not just his knee that’s hurting. But he still smiles, and he waves, because he can still hear the cheers for him, from the people who want him, and that makes him feel slightly better because now he think he’s going to be sick. He still tells him that he he’s okay, he’s fine, he’s alright. 

~ 

He had to fight with his mum to let him go home by himself. She didn’t want him to be alone, knowing how he was feeling before, and now knowing that he’s hurt. Louis shakes her off though, saying that he’s not going to do anything but ice his knee and go to bed. Though it’s barely even eight, he’s just exhausted, and in pain, in more ways than one, and he just wants to sleep and forget this day happened. 

So he is alone when he opens the door, but he’s not alone when he closes the door. 

Because the lights are already on as is his telly, and there’s a lout shout of ‘Louis!’ and a second body of the day slamming into him. 

This one doesn’t knock him over though. It’s Niall, and he’s hugging Louis, and as much pain as he’s still in, he’s relieved, and he hugs Niall back, and he sees over his shoulder Liam and Zayn coming out from his kitchen. Louis feels tears sting his eyes again. But it’s not from pain this time, or being nervous, or feeling alone, because he’s not any of those things anymore. He’s got his boys now, and they weren’t there either but they are now, when he absolutely needs them and he’s just so grateful now that he hugs Niall a little tighter. 

“Jesus Louis if we knew you were going to be so shitty he would’ve come just to laugh at you there.” Zayn tells him.

Louis laughs, eyes watery and he smiles, pressing his eyes into Niall’s shoulder to subtly wipe them before he pulls away. 

“Probably wasn’t my best.” he admits. “What are you guys doing here?” 

“Well we were going to surprise you of course, we were going to take you out, but we all watched the game and saw you take that hit, so, we figured we’d break into your house. Watch a couple movies, I got pizza and beer.” Niall told him. “How’s that knee?” 

“Fucked.” Louis says honestly. 

“Well get off of it.” Liam comes over and lets Louis rest his weight on him, helping him over to the couch. He settles down and then Niall’s at his side, moving the table close so he put his leg up on it, Zayn disappears into the kitchen and comes with icepack in hand. 

Louis wants to cry again. 

“I really thought I wasn’t going to see any of you today.” he tells them 

“Fuck’s sake Louis, we were busy in the morning, we weren’t going to abandon you the whole day.” Niall says punching him in the shoulder. 

“Except for Harry, he’s still in the States.” said Liam 

“But he’s Skyping in a few, we already talked to him.” Zayn amends. 

Liam’s reaches for Louis’ knees and pulls his joggers up to inspect his knees. “Well last time you went down it was already swollen by now.” he pokes and prods at it. 

“It’s the muscle.” Louis hisses as Liam touches a particular sore sport. 

“Doctor in the morning.” Zayn doesn’t order it, but Louis knows he doesn’t have another choice. 

“I know.” Louis bites down on his lip, growing worried now. 

“But you’re going to be fine.” Niall squeezed his shoulder. “And even if you’re not, we can have knee surgery together. Make them put is in the same room and everything, maybe the same bed.” 

“Not the same bed.” Louis shakes his head. 

“Not the same room either, they’ll throw you both out the hospital.” Liam said. 

“Well then you, Zayn and Harry would be our nurses then wouldn’t you.” Louis grins. “Sponge bath and everything.”

“You might like it too much.” Zayn retorts with a smile of his own. 

“We could get Harry in a nurse uniform.” Niall suggested. 

“He might like that too much.” Liam chuckles. 

They pulled Harry up on Skype and they talked their usual shit, they ribbed Louis about his performance but were actually concerned for his knee, and they watched movies, and ate all three pizzas and drank both cases of beer, they argued with Harry about what an attractive nurse he would make. Louis laughed hard at that. It wasn’t even all that funny but he’s happy, because he’s comfortable, he’s got his boys, and that’s, really all he wanted all day. He could forget about everybody who didn’t want him because now he was around people who did. Who made him feel that way. Thanks to his boys. 

He’s okay now, he’s fine, he’s alright

**Author's Note:**

> a footie louis thing so my twin can have a footie louis thing.


End file.
